


loose leaf love letters

by Rosyredlipstick



Series: AU Solangelo Fic [12]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: College AU, English major!Nico, F/M, Get together fic, Librarian!Nico, M/M, Pre-med!Will, Shy and awkward babies, love letters AU, secret admirer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7159451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyredlipstick/pseuds/Rosyredlipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Solace is infamously sworn off the library.<br/>If asked, he is able to spew off many different responses. He prefers wikipedia, he'll tell you, grinning over the rim of a red plastic cup. And haven't you heard how books are destroying all of our trees? Afterall, he's too busy to stop by the library, and an E-Reader is just as convenient.<br/>But the real reason, the reason that has Lou and Cecil rolling their eyes and gagging behind his back, well, this reason is best known for his curled smirk, darkened clothes, and feathery black hair.<br/>-<br/>The not-so-secret admirer au no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	loose leaf love letters

"Will. Seriously?”

You clench your hands even tighter. “ _Lou Ellen_ .” You beg, your voice grave, and you lift your folded hands above your head. “Lou, _please_ . I _need_ that book or I'm gonna _fail_ my exam.”

She shoots you a look, sharp as a dagger and tight with annoyance. “And _why_ are you unable to retrieve this book for yourself?”

“You _know_ why.” You hiss through your teeth, “ _Please_.”

“Oh,” Cecil greeted from the doorway to their dorm room, “What's Will on his knees for this time?”

Lou Ellen rolled her eyes, “He needs a library book.”

Cecil’s grin turned devilish, “ _Oh.”_ he repeated, more meaning in the word now. “He needs a _library_ book.”

“You’re making it sound dirty.” You complain, pointing over to the other boy in annoyance. You are still on your knees and your legs are starting to ache. “You’re making it dirty and you’re not helping.”

You stand, pulling your body up and throwing yourself onto Cecil’s bunk dramatically. “I _really_ need this book.” You tell her, your face buried in soft fabric.

Lou sighed, and you try to conceal the grin that wants to emerge at the sound.

“Fine _.”_ She relented, “ _But_ you’re buying the takeout on Wednesday.”

“Deal.” You agree immediately, relief flooding through your body. Your muscles loosen up and you spread your arms across the bed.

Cecil laughed, “Solace, you can’t avoid the library forever.”

“Yes I can.” You replied, snuggling deeper into Cecil’s comforter. “I can avoid whatever I want for however long I want too.”

“Until you need some obscure medical text that’s not even on the internet, you mean.” Lou’s familiar weight bounces onto yours, and she settles next to your arm comfortably.

“Of course.” You allow her, moving your legs so Cecil could climb in over them. It’s nice, sharing a bed and warmth with your closest friends. Your eyes flutter close, more just to relax then to sleep, and you throw an arm around Lou’s waist. Cecil lays a pillow over your back and he settles down comfortably.

“Threesome?” Cecil suggests, running his hand up your leg so it could curve around your ass.

You laughed and kick his arm away, “You _wish.”_

“I do.” Lou replied, “But, if you’re going to be that way, I guess Cecil and I will just have to continue our forbidden love affair on our ownsomes.”

“You always leave me out on all the fun.” You mutter into Cecil’s pillow, “And what’s so forbidden about you two?”

“I’m a diehard Trekkie, and he thinks Star Wars is a gift from the gods.” Lou shuttered, and she flipped over so she could face you. She pokes your face until you open one eye to glare at her. “The movie nights alone would be a disaster.”

“You’ll always be my Leia.” Cecil muttered, grabbing onto Lou’s ankle with cold hands. She kicked at him, almost hitting you in the shin.

“Can I be Han Solo?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Will.” Lou lifted her head from your shared pillow, “I’m Han Solo, you’re Leia.”

“Who am I?” Cecil questioned.

“Jar Jar Binks, of course.”

* * *

 

“You’re coming with me.”

“I’m telling you _exactly_ -”

“Will. I was already dragged out of bed at the asscrack of dawn to get this book, I’m not going on a fucking quest to find it.”

“Lou, it’s eleven in the morning.”

_“Asscrack of dawn.”_

You sigh, “I’ll tell you _exactly_ where to go. I’ll draw you a _map_ if you want me too _._ ”

“Will.” Lou Ellen rubs her eyes and stifles a yawn, “I have class in an hour. I’ll check out this book for you, just _show_ me where to find it. You won't have to talk or even _breath_ if you don't want too. Just point to what book you want and you can go wait outside.”

You take a long breath and size up the impressive building as if it were a morgue, or something equally as morbid or intimidating, and not just simply a building full of books. “Okay, fine.” you finally relent, “In and out, we’ll get to the science section and get the hell out of dodge, right?”

Lou nods, “And you’ll spend the entire time looking over your shoulder and avoiding -”

“We’re going!” You announce, pulling her forward through the doors, you drop your voice down to a whisper, “And I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“Really? How about -”

“No talking in the library.” You hiss to her, your voice low. You drag her forward, your steps quick and fast. Lou laughed under her breath, digging her heels into the thick carpet just to annoy you. You cast quick, slightly panicked looks over your shoulder every few steps. You nearly made it past the front desk before a voice speaks up from behind them.  

“Can I help you two with something?”

You freeze, grabbing onto Lou’s arm and squeezing in panic. Your throat seizes and you shoot a deadly glare towards Lou’s dancing eyes.

Lou spins, a bright, enthusiastic smile on her face. “Hi!” And her voice is more perky than you’ve ever heard, “We actually _could_ use some help, we’re looking for some dusty anatomy book no one’s ever heard of. Will, sweetheart, do you have the ISBN number?”

You curse her and turn slowly, your heart in your throat and a too-stiff smile plastered on your face. You nod and slowly fish the paper out of your pocket and unfold it before handing the wrinkled post it note over. You are suddenly incredibly self conscious about your messy handwriting, and how illegible the words probably were. Cecil always complained about it when he copied your notes. You shift your weight rather uncomfortably and try to keep your cheeks to a mild rose, rather than the harsh tomato blotches that usually break out across your skin.

Nico di Angelo took the slip without question. He glances up to study you for a moment before reading the note. “Pre-med program, right?”

You nod, your grip on Lou’s shirt tightening as your palms grow sweater. Lou takes that moment to reach over and pinch her nails into your forearm.

“It should be over here.” Nico indicates to the right with a nod, “Follow me?” his eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment before looking away.

You and Lou follow Nico across the library, your heartbeat pounding at the sight of the other boy’s too-tight jeans. Nico disappears among the bookshelves before emerging with the thick text clamped between two hands. He hands it over wordlessly, letting you look over the title for a second.

“That all?” He asks, looking to you.

You nod and swallow, “Thank you.” And, thank the gods, your voice is steady and sure. He nods before going back off towards the checkout desk.

A breath of relief floods out of you, and you grip onto Lou. “ _This is why I didn’t want to come in.”_

“Because of your embarrassingly huge crush on a boy you’ve only spoken to a handful of times?” Lou nodded, “I would probably be embarrassed too. He’s hot.” Lou sticks her hand out, “Now, enough cringe worthy exchanges. I’ll go check it out.”

* * *

Wednesday's are your favorite days of the week.

Sure, you have an 8 am class, and you have to sprint in order to make it to a few of your other classes, but Wednesday is take out night.

Back in high school, when you were lonely and starved for any kind of friendly companionship, you always dreamed about having traditions like this. Friends you could always turn to, maybe a hang out spot you were always welcome. You grin as you settle on Cecil’s bunk, cracking open your shrimp lo mein and adjusting your chopsticks. Lou is curled on the plush carpet next to her things that she keeps in your room, and she briefly reminds you of a dragon guarding its treasure. This is especially funny, because Lou’s treasure consists of an opened box of tampons, a few dirty tshirts, her cracked ipod touch, and a random section of pocket sized items from the time her bag spilled open. The corner was basically her section of the room at this point, neither you nor Cecil actually brave enough to move her stuff around.

It’s just the three of you today, which you enjoy. On occasion, another one of your friends will join you for a night of tv and takeout, and you always have fun. Last week it was Katie, a friend from Cecil’s earth biology class. The week before that, Frank from your Anatomy study. You enjoy the company of the others, it’s funny to have someone to roll your eyes with once Lou and Cecil started their bickering, and always nice to have someone new to bounce your aged puns at.

But you miss your best friends, and you’re appreciating that it’s just you guys tonight.

“They’re gonna screw.” Lou predicts with a mouthful of rice, a few grains flying out. You wince and try to tame the neat freak in you, soothing yourself with the thought of cleaning it up later. She jumps onto the mattress with you, a few steamed vegetables falling out of her container and onto her lap.

Cecil shakes his head and settles on the carpet next to you, “They’re totally just teasing us.” He points his fork at the screen - he doesn’t have the patience to learn how to use chopsticks - and clicks his tongue. “They’re gonna try and bait Fitz and Liv back together, despite her swearing off him completely.”

You sigh, “I’m tired of this plotline. Where’s Mellie? Isn’t she usually threatening someone by now?”

“Says the only Mellie supporter in the universe.” Cecil mutters, “She is _Satan.”_

 _“She is_ not _Satan._ Mellie is a surprising, flexible character who -”

“Shut up or we’ll put Grey’s Anatomy on again.” Lou threatens through a mouthful of chicken.

“And you can spend the whole episode complaining about the medical inaccuracies.” Cecil adds, slurping up his noodles. A few drops of soy sauce land on your arm and you wipe it on his shirt.

“It’s not that it’s _completely_ inaccurate -” Lou shoves you, cutting you off.

“Enough.” Her eyes don’t leave the screen to scold you, “Liv is about to kick ass, be quiet.”

“And what about that is so different from every other episode?” You mutter, but you stop talking. You know that at soon as the main action is over you’ll all start talking again, so you shut up for now.

Lou sighs as Liv handles the episodes problem, “She’s perfect.”

Cecil leans back and almost tips the laptop onto the floor. “That was a great episode.” He agrees, “Next one?”

Lou shakes her head and reaches over your arm to pick at your noodles, “Nah, let's see what else Netflix has.”

They settle on a plain rom-com, purely for the purpose of talking through it.

“So did Will tell you,” Lou begins nonchalantly, “About who we ran into at the library on Monday?”

You choke on some shrimp and nearly throw your greasy chopsticks at her, “ _No one_.” You insist through clenched teeth. “It was _no one.”_

Cecil grins with excitement, “Was it…?”

“Yup.” Lou pops the end of the word with a wide grin, “And trust me, it was _terrible.”_

“It wasn’t that bad.” You mutter, giving up and letting your head hang.

“It was.” Lou disagrees, “He only said two words, the rest of the time he just blushed and caught flies.”

Cecil laughed, “How did Nick react?”

“Nico.” You correct, earning a scoff from Lou.

That makes Cecil laugh even harder. “ _Nico.”_ he says, “How did _Nico_ react to your embarrassment?”

“With as much as he was staring at Will, I don’t think he minded much.”

You slap Lou’s arm, careful about the food in your lap. “He was _not.”_

“It’s like I wasn’t even there.” She mused. “I wonder how you would have reacted if you went alone.”

“I’m never going back to the library, let alone by myself.” You declare to them, pulling Cecil’s laptop towards you, “And we’re _not_ talking about this anymore.”

* * *

Yeah, your sworn avoidance of the library doesn’t last long at all.

You have to go back.

Alone.

By yourself.

_On your ownsome._

In retrospect, it probably didn’t help that you’re currently taking a class that’s basically named _Ancient Medical Practices You Will Never Need to Know And\Or Use_ because of some history credit you didn’t even know you needed until this year _._

And this was bad, this was honestly very incredibly _horribly_ bad, because now you _need_ stupid, ancient books that you _knew_ the library had, and Lou has classes all day and Cecil went back home for the weekend.

“Just go get the books.” Cecil tells you, rolling his eyes over Skype because the both of you are too codependent for your own good and you couldn't go a day without talking to each other. The screen is blocky from bad internet connection and his voice is distorted. “Man up, Solace. It’s just a guy.”

“I just, I want to make a good impression when I _really_ start talking to him.” You flip over, bringing the blanket over your head.

“ _No,”_ Cecil corrects you, “You want to make a good impression for when you really start _courting_ him.”

“So what?” You scoot the laptop closer, “I like him, so what?”

“It’s disgusting.” Cecil shakes his head, “It’s 2016, just fuck each other. Drunken hook ups are our generation's trademark.”

“I really like him.”

“You’ve never even had a full conservation with him, Will.”

You shrug, “I’m a romantic.”

Cecil rolls his eyes, but he’s teasing. “Are you in my bed?” he observes, leaning closer to the laptop camera so he could better peer at the screen, “That’s my blanket; you’re totally in my bed.”

You click your tongue, “I hate the top bunk, you know this.”

“That doesn't mean I want you in my bed.” Cecil grins, “Unless you’re inviting me to join you, of course.”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“It’s not flirting if all we do is have sex.”

You groan, grinning. You’ve missed your friend more then you want to admit. It’d been far too quiet. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Will.” Cecil’s voice is as serious as it gets - so there’s still a light laugh in his voice. “Just go get the books.”

You sigh, and log off a few minutes later. You stare at the university website for a long time, cursing out loud when you finally bring yourself to click on the ‘Library’ tab.

The next day, as you slowly climb the library steps, you regret every single life choice that had lead you to that moment.

 _I should have gone to school to be a shoe maker. They still have those, right?_ You think to yourself as your hand closes around the heavy door handle.

 _Doctor’s are overrated._ You comfort yourself, _Transferring into shoemaking shouldn’t be that different._

You swallow as you dunk through the metal detectors, _I would never have to buy another pair of sneakers ever again. I could just_ make _them._

The front desk wraps around the front portion of the first floor and your feet feel like they’re tied to weights. You pull your winter coat tighter around you and shuffle towards the desk.  

“I...I have a few books on hold.” You struggle to get out once you finally reach your destination. You slide your student ID across the counter and jerk your hand away. You swallow and glance around, the front desk being more intimidating than you ever wanted to admit. The library really was a beautiful building, all soft lighting over dark wood and tall windows that let the late afternoon sun glide through.

Nico lingers for a second, his gaze heavy on you, before giving you a quick nod and disappearing into the back area with your ID card. You wait a minute or so until he returns with a small stack of books in his hands. You ordered quite a few, hoping to stock up for the next week or so and not having to embarrass yourself for a bit - or at least until Lou could be bribed into coming back.

Nico scans each one before handing them over, one at a time.

“Wait,” You stop him, your ears, hiding under your thick winter beanie, grow pink. “That one - that one’s not mine.”

Nico looks down at the book, _Perks of Being a Wallflower,_ and glances back up at you. “It was on your list.” he dismisses, placing it in your pile and continuing to scan your other few books.

“But - ”

“They’re due back on the 21st.” Nico interrupts, holding out your card and a small receipt, “Can I help you with anything else?”

You swallow and take the paper, careful not to brush fingers with him. “I’m good. Thank, uh, thank you.”

You balance the books on your arm and rush out of the building, the addition of the slim green book foreign but unnoticeable under the weight of the heavy medical texts. The intimidation of the building seeming to have abandoned you, as your recent inspiration for shoe making.

You’d read the teen book in high school, of course. When you were alone and tired, long before the company of Lou and Cecil, before your transfer, you were so _incredibly_ tired and alone. Your guidance counselor, well meaning but misguided, tried to press hope and meaningless platitudes into your mind before shaking her head and pulling the book off her shelf.

The words are familiar and welcoming as you glance at the back summery and you can’t resist cracking it open to a random page. You settle on one of the few metal benches spread throughout campus and start on a random paragraph. The story was just as real and raw as you remember - all of the angst and anger and sadness so similar to your own highschool emotion. You devour the book, essentially forgetting about the ice that freezes at your feet, and the cold that chaps your lips. You forgot about your mild crush on Patrick, and how protective you were over Charlie and his sister, and how much you treasured Sam. The characters welcome you back with their familiar quirks, and it wasn’t until one of your favorite scenes - Charlie and his first Rocky Horror performance - when you’re interrupted.

“Will?”

You look up, the sky darker and the air colder than you remember, and the October chill in the air feels more like a December winter. You glance over to the voice, and Nico is standing at the foot of the bench with his head cocked to the side. He’s bundled up in a sleek aviator jacket with fingerless gloves, looking cool and at ease. He resembles a classic Hollywood bad boy, complete with the air of nonchalance that hangs around him. He would have completed the costume if it wasn’t for the bright, multicolored knitted scarf that wound around his neck in a figure eight.

You sit up quickly, collecting your books and, with a glance at the page number, snapping _Perks_ close. “Nico!” Your voice is an octave higher than usual. You try to lower your voice without actually saying anymore words.

“Good book?” He questions, nodding down to the folded paper cradled in your hands, and you take a moment to appreciate his voice, and how steady and low it is.

You nod, picking up your other books and hugging them to your chest. “It’s a great book.” Your voice is closer to normal - but still slightly high. You risk grinning a bit, your smile unsure. “Nice scarf.” Your voice is off-hand, too low to be teasing but too high to be anything but.

Nico’s face screws up, “My sister made it.” He makes a face at it, picking up a loose end only to stare at it. “It’s hideous, but it was one of her firsts.”

“So you have to wear it.” You finish for him, “Or her feelings will get hurt.”

Nico picks at the yarn before weaving his fingers through, “Just until she makes a better one.” The area where he sticks his fingers through is worn and softer than the rest of the scarf, and you wonder how many times a day he does that.

“I like it.” You tell him earnestly with a smile, your heart pounding. You notice how long his hair is and you swallow. You’ve always had a thing for guys with longer hair. You try to compose yourself before you finish speaking, “I like all the different colors, it’s really unique.”

Nico snorted, but it wasn’t mean. “Of course you do.” he mutters under his breath, and you are unsure if you should take offense. You decide not to.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You ask, surprising yourself with the slight teasing note that escapes in your voice. And you can’t believe you’re having an _actual_ conversation with the other boy, the boy you’ve spent the last three months dodging behind bookshelves for and shoving your face behind too-tall books to avoid. You can’t believe they’re _teasing_ each and _smiling_ like _friends._ You resist the urge to fist pump, or squeal in delight. You’re an adult after all (You will do both of these things when you return to the safety of your dorm).

“It’s just...it’s fitting, that’s all.” Nico avoids your eyes, a smile playing on his cheeks. You try not to grin like an idiot. You don’t succeed.

“For an English major, you’re not very good with words.” You tease, your voice light and bumpy with laughter.

Nico shots you a surprised look, “How did you know I’m an English major?”

You mentally freeze, your mind screeching to a halt. You are unprepared for the thought that Nico _didn’t_ know you’ve been facebook-stalking him for the past month. (And, _hey,_ it’s not that creepy, he hardly even posted anything. The last thing on his timeline was a few weeks ago from some girl named Reyna when they went on a roadtrip)

“You had class with Lou.” You lie, not actually sure if Nico and Lou shared a class but, hey, they’re both English majors and this school wasn’t _that_ big so it would make sense if one or two of their classes overlapped.

Nico thinks for a moment, “I think she was in my Dramatic Lit class.” He accepts, nodding.

A rough wind rushes by and it bites at your ears and nose. You dig your nose digger into your scarf and take a breath of too warm oxygen.

“I better get going.” You tell him, more for the fact that you’re making a complete fool of yourself and that this isn’t the courting, as Cecil always calls it, you had in mind _at all_. You stand as he nods.

“What dorm are you in?” He asks, and hey, isn’t today just the day for personal information.

“The Apollo.” You shift the weight of your books to one side so you can fix your hat and pull it over your cold ears, “We share a building with Hermes.”

“I’ll walk with you.” He offers, and _damn_ if you aren’t glad that Cecil’s out of town and he won’t witness this trainwreck.

“Where’s your dorm?” You question as you walk, mostly because you dying to know more about him but also because the silence is awkward and consists of only the rushing wind around your ears.

“I’m in the Big Three.” He tells you, referencing the exclusive honors student lodging close to your building.

You whistle, “Smart, huh?”

He shrugs, but his cheeks are red - either from your words or the weather, you don’t know.

“I guess.” He answered, glancing away. Neither of you respond to that, and you walk in a silence that’s only occupied by the hit of your rubber soles against the sidewalk.

You catch sight of your building, and you jab your thumb over your shoulder, feeling suddenly nervous.

“That’s my stop.” You tell him, shifting the books in your arms. You smile at him - unsure and hesitant - and wave him a goodbye. You turn on your heel, feeling a bit like you’re running away, before a hand wraps around your elbow and you stop.

“Um.” You whip around at the sound of his voice, much closer than before. “You dropped this, it...fell out of your book.”

You take it with surprised hands, ready to unfold it and see whatever scribbled notes you’ve misplaced this time before Nico’s too-high voice interrupts. “I’ve got to go!”

You look up and instead jam the note between two books, startled by his sudden retreat, “Oh, uh, bye?”

Nico waved over his shoulder, gone as fast as he appeared. You shake your head in mild, but expected, disappointment. All the way up to your room you curse your awkward words and too-big grins. No wonder Nico was in such a rush to get out of there.

It isn’t until much later, after dinner and only about an hour until Cecil is expected back, when you remember the folded notebook sheet stuck between stiff book covers. You fish it out, almost ripping a corner, before you’re able to smooth it out. You realize very quickly that it isn’t your handwriting - not even close to your thick, heavy scrawl, and you’re about to crumple it and shoot it towards the trash before you catch your name scribbled at the top.

_Will -_

You read, and your eyebrows knit together.

_I never understood poetry_

_Until I saw the beauty in your eyes._

_Now, my hands are aching from words I am unable to think no more,_

_And my fingertips are stained with ink._

_Now, I understand why the poets couldn’t stop writing,_

_And every time I see you I am reminded_

_Of why I now call myself a poet._

You stare at the words for a long moment, and you don’t even notice how hard you’re clenching at the paper. You swallow before very calmly folding it back to it’s previous creases, you take a long deep breath, and then you freak the fuck out.

You don’t tell Cecil or Lou, because you don’t even know how to admit you may-kind of-sorta have a secret admirer to _yourself._

You pride yourself in your ability to completely, totally sink yourself into a calm sense of denial.

So, you dump out an old shoebox fulls of pens, carefully place the paper in it, shove it as far under the bed that you can reach, and call it resolved. Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t stop anything.

* * *

“Back so soon?”

You glance up, a blush already powdering across your cheeks. You give him a small, nervous smile. “Just returning these.” You answer clearly, gesturing towards the stack in your hands. _Perks,_ in it’s slim lime green glory, sits on top of the stack, and only reminds you of everything that you’re trying very _very_ hard not to think of.

“Solace, right?” Nico asks, messing with his computer. You set the books down on the counter and give him a short, if not slightly confused, nod. “I thought so, you have a requested book.”

Your protests die on your lips as he turned towards the back, returning only a few moments later.

“I didn’t…” You choke on your words, remembering the last instance.

He ignores your voice and scans the book quickly. “ID?” He asked, nodding towards your pocket.

You fumble with your wallet for a second, instead focusing on the way his dark eyes stared at you.

You blush and fumble your way through the transaction before rushing off to your dorm, the paper growing thin from the sweat forming on your palms. You slam your dorm door behind you, grateful that Cecil has class, and you fold open the note.

_When I see your cheeks flush red, I become jealous of color._

_When your lips stain pink, and your hair shines gold,_

_And when bold black ink splashes on your lips, from the pens you chew to rugged plastic,_

_I become jealous of color._

This one is shorter than the other, but written in the same neat, sharp handwriting. You bite your lip and clench the note to your chest, the words already imprinted into your mind.

_Fuck_

* * *

“You look like hell.” You observe as you drops down next to Frank, your partner for whatever project Mr. D has bestowing upon your class this week. “As a med student, I know when people look bad. And you sir, look like hell.”

Frank groaned, rubbing his eyes and dropping his forehead down on his pile of notebooks. “I’m _so_ tired.”

You nod your head sympathetically, “Why’d you stay up so late? It's hard to forget you have an 8 am class.”

“My girlfriend’s brother come over to the apartment last night. They were up all night talking and laughing about some boy he has a crush on.” Frank shuttered and you have to stifle your laugh, “ _Thin walls, Will._ I don't think I can ever look the same at him again.”

This time you laugh, “C’mon, I'll finish the reading if you start the packet today.” you offer, “Hopefully next time her brother visits it’ll be more PG, right?”

Frank perks up, obviously relieved that you’re willing to do the boring part of the assignment.  “You have _no idea.”_

You laugh again, “Any plans for this weekend?” You ask, enjoying the light conversation.

“Uh, nothing out of the ordinary. Date night tomorrow, gonna catch up on some netflix, probably invest in some ear plugs, you?”

You grin, “Eh, bout the same.” You glance down at the paper. “Do you understand what question number six is about?”

Frank leans over, looking over the question quickly. He begins to explain it in that extremely helpful way only Frank could.

But your mind is still stuck on your weekend plans. Your real weekend plans - the ones you wouldn't mention.

_The library._

* * *

Your hands are shaking ever so slightly as you hand back the book. Nico takes it without a glance, only looking over his shoulder quickly.

“Let me go get your requested books.” Nico tells you, leaving no room for argument. You wait silently, although your mind is anything but. You glance around, hoping to find an obvious answer, someone staring at you as you wait, or someone conveniently lingering around. But there’s no one, and Nico returns quickly, a paperback in hand.

You are expecting it this time, and you're flipping through the pages with the reminder to be careful only as an afterthought. Your heart pounds, mostly with excitement, slightly with anxiety and you hold the thin loose-leaf paper as gently as if it were skinny china.

_I had thought of muses as excuses_

_for the lazy and ungifted,_

_who only curse their lack of inspiration._

_But now, as the words and color spills out of me at any mere_

_sight,_

_mention,_

_sound,_

_breath,_

_of you,_

_I understand why any other would crave it._

You stare at the paper for a long time, understanding every word but not comprehending. You want to bury your face in a pillow, preferably Cecil’s, but you’re almost a grown ass man, so you settle for a very mature, very adult smile.

(You end up squealing and happy-dancing a moment later, but no one needs to know that.)

* * *

These notes continue on, and these days go onto weeks, and now you have another month flipped on your calendar  and a shoebox filled with folded paper and suppressed smiles.

And you and Nico you're....friends now. You joke with him when you pick up books, and you always ask about his sister. Nico will almost-secret-smile at you and always gives you a late pass on your late fees (which, sadly, happens more then you're proud of. Your mom would be so disappointed.)

But, now you're sorta kinda hopefully friends, which doesn't exactly help the civil war going on with you right now. On one side, it’s _Nico_ you're talking about here, but also this note writer has managed to captivate you and everything you've ever hoped for when it comes to romance.

You try and forget this as you enter the library, Cecil and Lou trailing behind you. It's Wednesday, but Lou’s birthday is coming up and she loves weird, crappy pizza, so you and Cecil are treating her to a meal. _But_ , you've also got Mr. D test coming up, who is infamous in his impossible exams, so in between quizlet flashcards and looking over your notes for the thousandth time, you a decide reading over the footnotes in his recommended reading couldn't help.

Mr. D is a dick, and he really couldn't care less about his students, but there's probably a reason he's still teaching in one of the best pre-med programs in the country, so you decide not to argue against it.

Anyways, you're in the library for a book you actually need this time, but getting to see Nico doesn't exactly hurt this situation.

“Hey,” You grin, a bit shy as Cecil and Lou bicker behind you. “I’m looking for this book.” You wave the post it around before handing it over. “Could you help me?”

Nico takes it and glances up at you. “Well, it’s _literally_ my job so I hope I can.” He tells you, his voice lightly teasing. “I can – do you want me to show you?”

Cecil howls with laughter and a blonde girl behind the counter glares at him. You glance over your shoulder in embarrassment, “Actually, we’re kind of in a hurry. Could you write down where it is? I might need to find some more later.”

Nico’s hands briefly freeze over the keyboard but you don’t notice. He nods in response, slowly and a bit unsure. “Oh. Um, yeah, just. Um – give me a second.” He fumbles around for a piece of paper and for the first time he seems unsure. He scrawls the location quickly and hands it over, and his hands aren’t shaking.

You take the slip, still just happy that Nico’s comfortable enough to joke with you. You glance down before the air completely catches in your throat. Nico meets your gaze full on, peeking through his eyelashes, his eyes sure and knowing. You stare at each other for a long moment, Lou and Cecil obvious as they talked as loudly as they always do.

You stare down at the slip of paper. The handwriting - _Nico’s_ handwriting - has the same light, trademark straight curves as the notes you’ve been receiving.

You clench at the paper, the words meaningless in the wake of this revolution.

_That means,_

_That means Nico wrote the notes._

“Will?” Lou’s concerned face edges into your view. Her hand rests on your arm and she peers at you from under her messy bangs. “What’s up?”

“I’m fine.” You answer automatically stuffing the paper into your pocket. It burns an acute awareness into your mind as it pokes at you through the thick fabric. You feel dizzy with all the thoughts running through your head and you lean forward back onto the counter. “I’m fine, let’s go, I can get it later.”

Lou nods, confused but agreeing. Cecil swings his arm over your shoulder, concealing his concern as friendly affection. You meet Nico’s eyes, and you are startled to see the naked vulnerability in them.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.” You choke out before Cecil could turn you away, “To – to pick up some books.” You try to reassure him that you’ll be back, of course you’ll be back, but you need to collect and sort through your thoughts from the jumbled mess they’ve floated into.

He nods, and he doesn’t look so gutted open anymore. “I’ll be here.” He gives you a small shrug and an even smaller smile as your friends pull you away, their eyes flickering to your pale face in slight panic.

“Uh, everything good?” Cecil asks, not concealing the concern is  his voice very well.

You clear your throat, and attempt to do the same with your mind. “I'm fine. Just hungry.” You turn a bright, million dollar grin on Lou, because it's her night and you're _not_ going to ruin it. “So, Lou, how's it going feel to finally be twenty one?”

She rolled her eyes, but she accepted the change of topic without a fuss. “How the hell should I know?” She grabbed onto your hand,  pulling you close.  “Anyways,  I'm starving. Let's go stuff our faces.”

* * *

The night was long, but fun, as you struggled to keep your mind off Nico and this sudden realization. Cecil and Lou could totally feel something was wrong, but neither pressed him to talk about it, and you love both of your best friends so much. The night was long, but you're ending it with one of your trademark movie nights, so you're still having fun.

“Elle Woods deserves better!” Cecil yelled at the television, throwing a handful of popcorn at Warren’s face.

“Stop talking or I’ll put the sequel on.” Lou threatened, aiming a twizzler at his head.

You catch the candy mid air and take a quick bite before Lou could grab it back. “Oh please, the sequel’s not _that_ bad.”

“The musical trumps them both.” Cecil pointed out, earning hums of agreement from both of them. They all cringed in embarrassment as Elle walked into the party in the full bunny costume

“So, what was your little freakout in the library about?” Lou asked, her voice nonchalant. “I thought we were over that.”  

You roll your eyes. “It wasn’t a _freakout._ You’re overexaggerating. _”_

“So, you’re acknowledging that something _did_ happen.” Cecil pointed out, taking a bite of a gummy shark.

You sigh, and it takes you a moment to muster up the courage that the words take. “I guess...in certain loose definitions of the word...I have a very small, tiny, little…” You sigh again, knowing that they were both almost vibrating with nervous energy, “Crush. I have a crush on Nico.”

“This is the best birthday present you've ever given me.” Lou told him seriously, grabbing onto his shoulder as they both ignored Cecil’s high, excited squealing in the corner.

You sigh, secretly delighted that your friends care enough about you to be excited when good stuff happens.

“Is there anything we can do?” Lou asks, taking a long sip of her water.

You glance up, an idea suddenly coming to you. You're unsure if it’ll even work out right, but if it did, it would be awesome. “Actually, could you do me a favor?”

* * *

The library is quiet, as usual, as Annabeth would literally castrate anyone causing otherwise.

But it's also quiet in the sense as it’s completely empty, which was, honestly, Nico's favorite state of the building.

This perfect state doesn't go on forever - despite Nico's persistent prayers, it never does - and it's interrupted by the arrival of a girl.

Everything about her - from the high squeaking of her boots, and the sharp snap of her gum, as well as the bright colors she's sporting - screams loud. He can feel Annabeth bristling behind him already.

Lou Ellen - Will’s friend, he remembers - drops off Will’s book from last week, barely paying him any attention as she taps at her phone with rapid efficiently. She slides the book over, giving him a small nod, and leaves him a small feeling of disappointment, as well as the faint smell of her perfume.

Nico scans the book and flips it open - mostly to check for any leftover bookmarks but also with the hope that Will had taken his letter. Now that Will knows - or at least, Nico _thinks_ he know, Nico lingers on the same wonder he’s been running over in his mind -  if the other boy will even return at all.

It's obvious to notice the note pressed between the stiff pages and his heart drops in disappointment. But it only takes him another moment before the different, scribbled handwriting, and the carefully creased folds, are registered. His heart skips a beat and jumps straight  into his throat.

He slips the paper into his pocket quickly before rushing to finish checking the rest of the books back in. His heart pounds in his chest and he has to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Annabeth.” he calls out, dunking into the doorway. She looks up, brushing a few curls behind her ear. “I’m taking a bathroom break.” He tells her. She nods and returned to her reading, looking as she cared more about her dusty book of the week than anything Nico could do. Honestly, he could respect that.

It wasn’t until he was within the safety of the locked bathroom stall that he opened the folded paper.

_I have never been good with words, but you make me want to try._

_I want to write you long poems that steal your breath,_

_And singing novels that wake you at night,_

_I want to write a song that beats with your heart,_

_And stories that you clench to your chest._

_Your words have made me fall in love with you,_

_And I’m hoping that mine will do the same._

He held the note carefully, and pressed it close to his chest, his eyes fluttering close. He allowed himself a soft, small smile.

* * *

Winter break comes and goes – too short but much too long at the same time. Your mother is only too happy to stuff you full of greasy, fried calories and you’re only too happy to inhale all of it. Your distant cousins are nice – a bit stiff and cautious as they’ve always been – but nice. You want to joke about ‘catching the gay’ but you know they would take it only too serious. You miss your brothers, you always miss your brothers, because you know they would have been so much better at handling the awkward silences and hanging jokes. You’re relieved when it’s over, but so regretful when your mom brushes away her tears. It’s been three years since Michael and Lee, and every Christmas since you can only associate all the Christmas trees as gravestones, and you’re ready to go back to school.

Your mother gently kisses you goodbye when she drops you off, and she not-so discreetly slips a bill into your hoodie pocket. You want to protest but you also know how much better she feels when she knows you have food money. So you take it – along with the literal piles of Tupperware she sent for Cecil and Lou – and you return to your empty dorm. Cecil isn’t due back till Sunday, three days away, and you’re thankful for the however brief solitude. You are grateful for the quiet, and the clean, chilled air around you. You take a few minutes to pull out Nico’s words - you’d missed them while you were gone, and the familiar light, curves of his writing feel like coming home - and you decide to leave them out for a bit. Afterall, Cecil won’t be home for another few days, and words like that don’t deserve to be shoved under a bed all day. You ditch your suitcases, along with all the leftovers, in your dorm before grabbing your keys and strolling out, a light step in your walk. You walk around the campus a bit, not really having a destination in mind, when a speeding skateboarder flies by. You don’t really give it much thought - there are usually a few people at all times biking or skating around, but the Truly Spectacularly Terrible Fall that happens moments after, well, that catches your attention.

You run over, your hand already shoved in your backpocket to reach for the small first aid (he shared a room with Cecil, okay? You _knew_ to be prepared by this point).

The other boy, blond and tan, gripped at his knee and hissed out curses, his breaths coming harshly against his clenched teeth.

“ _Fuck_.” He muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, “ _Fuck, shit, damn it._ ”

You wince sympathetically, bending down to his level. “That looked bad.” You stated, a bit obvious. “Are you okay?”

The guy opened his eyes, and they were as blue as a clear summer’s day sky. “Yeah.” He breathed out, “I’m fine, just a bit scraped up.” He lifted his hand off his knee and made a face at the blood dripping from his wound. He gave a hopeful glance to the ziplock bag you were clenching in one hand. “Could I….?”

“Of course!” You empty the bag on the concrete, quickly crossing your legs so you could sit comfortably. You pull out a small packet of neosporin and rip it open, handing it over and digging around for a few bandaids.

“Doesn’t look bad.” You comment, eyeing it. “If you brush away most of that gravel, and use like, 10 packets of neosporin, you should be fine.”

He grinned, “I suppose if you say it like that it doesn’t make me seem as tough.”

You roll our eyes, “You’re right, failed skateboard trick sounds _so_ much cooler. My mistake.”

He winced as he smoothes a few bandaids - Captain America themed, of course, you’re not such a monster to have plain bandaids just lying around for emergencies like this - over his wound.

“Do you need help back to your dorm?” You question, brushing most of the trash back into the ziplock baggie for later.

He snorted, “Well, I would usually offer to buy you dinner first before I invited you back to my room, but I suppose I can make an exception.”

“My hero.” You reply dryly, holding your hand out to pull him up. He’s a bit unsteady, clearly unwilling to put weight on his injured knee, and you gesture for him to lift his arm.

“I’m Jason.” He introduced himself, swinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Will.” You answered with a similar grin, taking his weight easily. You held his skateboard, thankfully unbroken, tight under your other arm.

“Will, huh?” Jason grinned, “Would you happen to be pre-med?”

You roll your eyes good heartedly, “Was the pocket first aid kit that gave me away?”

“Something like that.” He muttered, limping along. You’re too focused on being careful around the thin ice sheets splashed across the sidewalk to really notice what he’s saying, so you just nod along.

“I’m up here.” He nods towards the further dorms, “Fourth floor, but there’s an elevator.”

“The honors dorming?” You question it for just a moment, a single fleeting moment, before you dismiss it.

“Yeah, you know anyone here?” He questions, limping towards the door. You hold open the door and you both dunk through it.

“Not really.” You answer, not really wanting to get into it. You stab the elevator button and wait for it to come down.

“So what are you doing back so early? Most people don't come back from break till at least Sunday.” Jason asks, probably just trying to keep the conversation going.  

You shrug, which is kind of hard to do with someone draped across you. “Got stir crazy at home. You?”

The elevator opens and you have to shuffle a bit to get you both in.

“Fourth floor.” Jason tells you as your hand hovers over the buttons. “And my dad is a professor, so we usually come back a few days early so he can get ready for his classes.”

“Your dad is a professor?” You question, slightly surprised. Jason grins, and holds up his skateboard.

“Yeah, he hates the whole skater kid thing. Wants me to dress like a _professional_.” He rolls his eyes as the doors open.

“What room?” You ask.

“411b.” He tells you, leading the way as best as he can. “My roommate is still gone for the weekend, so it's probably locked.” You help him to the door as best as you can, letting him fumble around for his keyring.

He finally gets the door open, and you're surprised to note that it's cleaner than yours and Cecil’s. One side of the room, probably Jason's, is colored with soft blues and silver, and another skateboard is tilted against the bedframe. The other side, all dark grays and blacks, is littered with stacked towers of paperbacks and textbooks.  The room is clean, not really overboard on the decorations, but slightly bigger than you're used to. An honors perk, you suppose.

You lower Jason onto the blue side’s bed, and when he finally gets himself comfortable, he grins up at you.

“Thanks again for this, man.” He holds out his fist, and you bump yours against it with a smile.  

“Anytime.” You pull the first aid kit out of your pocket, shuffling through it for a moment. “Here.” You hand over a few packets of disinfectant. “Apply this, like, everyday or so. Should keep an infection from popping up.”

If possible, Jason grinned at him wider. “You're really cool. Thanks.”

“No problem. I'll see you around?” You begin walking towards the door, but you're still turned to him.

“I can imagine so.” He tells you suddenly cryptic, but you dismiss it.

Cecil isn't going to be home for another few days, and you plan on soaking up your alone time while you can.

* * *

The weekend pasts, your friends come back, and the only lingering reminder of winter break is the fluffy snow that's starting to fall.

But, with your friends comes their inability to eat any of their own food and nothing but your own. So when you reach for your stash of granola bars - the salty peanut butter ones, your _weakness_ \- and you come up empty, you simply repress your loud sigh and pick your ass up off the bed.

“I’m running to the store.” You tell both of them, Lou in the bathroom messing with her makeup, and Cecil sprawled out in the top bunk, scribbling at a notebook, probably trying to finish his winter break assignments. Or start them. When it came to Cecil, no one knows.

“Pick me up some tampons!” Lou yells from the bathroom, “And sparkling water if they have my flavor!”

You roll your eyes but add the items to your list, along with some of Cecil’s instant noodles that you love to criticize for their unhealthiness but also really, really love to eat. Cecil eyes your list from over your shoulder, but doesn’t speak up, so that’s probably approval.

You wave them goodbye, knowing if you speak up and perhaps scare Lou into messing up her mascara she’d literally, shamelessly murder you with her blending brush.

The walk is short - after all, the store mainly caters to hungry university students so you're not surprised whenever you happen to run into a few of your peers. But it's short, and you're grateful, because the snow is cold and unforgiving to those who forget their hats or lose their gloves (he _had_ gloves, okay? It's not his fault the dryer eats anything worth having).

You pick up a few bags of chips, along with some assorted fruit to tame the health freak in you. You pick up Cecil’s favorite cereal - anything with marshmallows - and a few heat up dinners you'll feel guilty about later.

You examine the water bottles, on the lookout for Lou’s favorite weird flavor that you’re not even sure this store carries. You finally find it, hiding behind more innocent, normal flavors like grape, and you load up your cart with enough for the week.  

“Will!”

You turn, your hand still in the process of filling up your cart, and wow, were you right about the whole seeing peers things.  

You grin, “Hey Jason!” Your eyes automatically drift down to his knee, eyeing the gaze padding on it. “How’s that battle wound healing?”

He smiles back, “Great! Been applying that weird paste, like you said, and it’s been great. Hardly hurts anymore.” He gave his knee an experimental bend to prove his point.

“Good job.” You tell him, giving him an impressed look. He smiles, bending forward a bit to peek at the many water bottles collecting in your cart. He cocks his head to the side in question, but you only smile and gesture for him to continue on.

“Lemon grapefruit?” He reads slowly, his eyes squinted even through his glasses. “That sounds like sour hell.”

You shrug. “What we’ll do for our friends, right?”

He chuckles like he finds that particularly funny. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’m here with my roommate.” He informed you after a moment, and he says those words as if they was supposed to mean something. “He’s fetching the chips because, as he says, after last time when I bought four bags of salt and vinegar Lays, I can’t be trusted anymore.”

“Seems like a character.” You laugh, knowing Cecil is the same way when you bring back too much healthy stuff (such a travesty) instead of the empty calories he demands.

“Oh, he is.” Jason looks over your shoulder, shooting a significant look over it. “And here he comes.”

You turn, mostly just to be polite to Jason's roommate, but then you turn and you see and _of course._

_Of course._

Nico looks as surprised as you must, and he walks slowly, eyeing Jason suspiciously.

“Hello.” He greets them slowly, as if testing out the word. “Will. Jason.”

“Oh, um, hi Nico.” You greet him, your awkwardness reaching an all time high score. “Uh. Fancy to meet you here.”

“Oh, that's so weird!” Jason smiled brightly, his voice loud. “Do you guys _know_ each other? So weird!”

Years later, Jason Grace will reflect upon the worst glares he’s ever received. He will note the time he accidently broke Leo's whatever contraption, the time he spilled soda all over Annabeth’s newly finished thesis, and, of course, this moment, when Solangelo-in-the-making teamed up for the best duo glare he's ever received.

He resisted the urge to flinch back, and even now he knows that he will have nightmares about this later.

“We need milk.” Jason told both of them, his voice not as strong as he'd like. “I will retrieve the milk.”

He said this last sentence as he shot off from the aisle, his voice barely a lingering echo.

Nico sighed, the sound very thin, before turning back to face you. “I apologize for him.” Nico told him, his voice sorry. “He's an idiot. It's a condition.”

You laugh, grateful the weirdness is going away a little bit. “I understand, um, we all have our own share of idiot roomates.”

Nico laughs at that, you try and calm the excited energy that erupts in your chest at the sound.

You peek down at your grocery list, grateful you have somewhere else to look, “Well, I uh, I still have to run and get pasta.” You hold out your arm, giving him your most charming smile. “Would you, um, like to accompany me?”

Nico gives you a million-watt grin, and hell, if you weren't totally and completely into him, that smile would have done it.

“Of course.” Nico answered, sliding his arm into yours. His touch is warm and strong, and you know you could become addicted to the feeling of his thin, long fingers pressing into your muscle. His basket, filled with different flavors of chips, dangles from his other arm as he holds onto you.  

You're suddenly incredibly grateful that Nico is a thousand times more smoother then you are, at least at this moment, because then it would just be you two gawking at each other in the middle of a damn grocery store.

“That's a lot of flavored water.” Nico remarks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, uh, Lou loves the stuff.” You tell him, unsure why you're telling him.

He hums, nodding. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

You turn into the correct aisle, looking for the shaped macaroni you secretly love. “ I have a class later, but not for some time. You?”

“Had all my classes this morning.” He tells you, and you wrinkle your nose at that.

“Morning classes? Oh gods, I'm so sorry.”

He gives you a small laugh at that. “They suck, but it's not terrible. It's a pretty cool class.”

“Oh? Please do go on.” You tell him, incredibly increased in the on-goings on Nico's life.

He goes on about his class, about analyzing 18th century literature or something like that, and while the class honestly sounds like the most boring thing ever, Nico's voice is anything but.

“Sounds....educational.” You finally settle on when he looks to you.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, it sounds weird but it's really cool.”

“I'll take your word on that.” You tell him, picking up a few bottles of shampoo. You glance down at your list. Most of the things are checked off, except for Cecil’s request for energy drinks but um, hell no, you're _definitely_ not invoking Cecil’s right for a heart attack, so you mentally check the list off as done.

You check your phone, cursing the time it reads back to you. “I have to go.” You tell him, grimacing. “My class is in an hour and I have to run back to the dorm and drop all this stuff off.”

Nico looks apologetic, “I'll talk to you later?” He smiles a bit, “Or probably write to you.”

Your cheeks color, because damn you aren't used to talking about it. “Yeah. Um Yes. Definitely.”

“I should go find Jason then.” Nico tells you, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “He's probably hiding in bread aisle texting his girlfriend.”

“You should probably go rescue him then.” You agree, your voice teasing. “It was...nice to see you.”

Nico keeps his beaming to a minimum, but it's a hard struggle. “Right back at cha.”

You wave at him as you turn, still exhilarated with seeing him. The walk home seems almost like a trace as you replay every moment with him, every sly smile and echoing laugh. You drop the stuff off and head to class, still in the same state of emotion.

_He's wonderful._

* * *

 

You push the door open, your backpack hanging from one arm, and you are _so_ ready for tonight’s plans - to simply fall into bed with some stupid netflix trash on and be asleep by eight. Maybe eat an entire bag of chips too, you're feeling that wild. You voice this out loud as you enter, knowing Cecil ditched class today, and you’re slightly surprised at the lack of witty response. You turn to your roommate, confusion only growing as you see Cecil kneeling at the front of the bunk.

Cecil, his hands already deep and buried in the familiar shoebox, a crease in his brown and surprise in his eyes.

His eyes meet yours, and there is a shared shock between the both of you.

You rush forward, pushing the notes under a folder and began collecting them as quickly as possible, “ _Don’t look at them_.” You hiss at him, “They’re nothing.”

Cecil stands, only to step back, “I was only looking for the shoebox of pens -”

Your cheeks burn like you’re ashamed of them, but you’re not. You _couldn’t_ be. But you can’t stand the thought of Cecil teasing you about this, about _him,_ because it’s not just a crush on the boy at the library, not anymore, and you can’t let him read them. You can’t have him teasing them, or reciting Nico’s words with laughter in his voice. You’re stupidly angry, because of course it’s not his fault, it’s his bunk, but jesus christ, he shouldn’t have read them and you’re _so_ angry you can feel it in every motion of your body.

“Oh my god.” Cecil held up one of the notes - the very first one - and it was wrinkled and stained from time. “He’s courting _you._ Oh gods, _Will,_ this is disgustingly sweet.” He laughs, and you’ve never been so suddenly angry at him before, because here he is, always trying to turn everything into a joke.

“ _Shut up.”_ you hiss at him, grabbing the note back. You shoved the notes back into the shoebox, careful not to rip or crumble any of them. You clench at the cardboard and take a steady breath, cursing Cecil for his once-in-a-lifetime punctuality. You kneel at the edge of his bed, looking almost like you’d settle down for prayer with your hands folded in front of you and your head tipped forward.

“Whoa, Solace.” Cecil slowly bends down next to you and carefully rests his hand on your back, “Dude, calm down.”

“Don't make fun of them.” You tell him, your voice low. “And don’t tell Lou.”

Cecil’s hand was heavy on his back, “She doesn’t know?” he asked, his voice light.

“No one knows.” You breath out, “Please. Just. Don’t tease me.” You leaned your head back, your eyes still clenched together. “Not about this.”

“Will…” Cecil’s voice is soft, and nothing like his usual rough tone. “Will, I wouldn’t…”

You swallow, hiding your face and avoiding his gaze.

You hear Cecil sigh, mostly in concern, and his voice is back to normal when he speaks this time. “You wanna go to a party?”

* * *

You’re drunk, and when you’re drunk you get flirty.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’re _always_ borderline flirty, but, with the help of a few drops of liquor, you transform into a serial flirt.

You down another shot and whip your hair back, grinning wickedly at the boy who’s pouring the drinks. His gaze trails over you in approval, and you lean in to expose your neck. The low lightening and dancing colors makes the glitter on your skin catch and reflect a million colors. The tall man leans in with a thin smile and a lame pick up line.

Cecil finds you a bit later, just as you’re about to reach second base with - uh, _well_ , you don’t exactly know his name, but he’s muscular, and blonde, so you’ve nicknamed him Thor in your head. You’ve always had a thing for superheroes, and the nerd in you purrs at the vision of Chris Hemsworth opening his mouth for you like this knock off is.

“Nope.” Cecil announces, pulling you away. You jerk away from the other boy’s lips and glare at Cecil. The boy lets you go easy, seeing the hard annoyance in Cecil’s eyes. “You’re trashed and he’s totally not, we’re leaving.”

“What?” You slur, stumbling onto Cecil’s weight. Your hands miss the warmth from resting under Thor’s shirt and you want to reach out to the blonde again. You turn and he’s already gone, disappearing into the crowd after Cecil pulled you away.

“You’re being cut off.” Cecil takes most of your weight and drags you out. For a runner, Cecil has some impressive biceps. You admire them with a poke.

“I’m not _done.”_ You insist once you realize what he said. You try to break away but, alas, his firm hold on your wrist entraps you. You steal a beer on your drag out, gripping the neck of the bottle tightly. "And I'm  _still_ upset with you." You instst, even though you're totally not.

“Will,” Cecil sighs, and hey, that’s your name. Neat. He takes the bottle from your limp hands and sets it on a table.  “It’s almost two, I have classes tomorrow.” He maneuvers you both around the bumping crowd and towards the front of the house.

“Leave me.” You insist again, this time your voice edging on whiny. You attempt to pull away but your limbs feel noodle-ly and weak. You momentarily get distracted by the wild pattern on Cecil’s shirt. “Has your shirt _always_ been that purple?”

Cecil grabs onto your bare shoulder and dunks you around some frat boys bringing in another keg. “No, it’s just gotten significantly brighter in the past few moments.” And hey, you hardly do well with sarcasm with you’re _sober,_ “And, speaking of shirts, where’s yours?”

You glance down at your bare chest, a bit surprised, but mostly drunk. “I...I think it got dirty.” You vaguely remember a girl dumping a cup of glitter in your hair, but the memory seems slippery.

Cecil rolls his eyes, and somehow manages to cattle you through the front door. The small stairway down is a challenge, but you make it an adventure. A fumbling couple knocks into you and you fall onto Cecil, basically hanging off him now, and you giggle and pull at his clothes.

“Wanna make out?” You ask, laughing and tracing your hands over his chest. You decide his coat is _much_ too thick.

Later, when your mouth tastes like acid dust, and it feels like someone is hammering down on your frontal lobe, your neck will break out in red blotches when Cecil retells this conversation to Lou, his voice dripping with glee.

Hey, when you said you were a drunk flirt, you meant that you _drunkenly flirted_ with just about _everyone._

You _still_ can’t look at Professor Chiron the same.

Cecil laughs and pats you on the chest, “Ask me again when you’re sober, darlin’.” He lets his country accent lift his words, and sometimes you forget Cecil came from the south. You have a thing for southern boys.

“I ammmmm sober.” You laugh, throwing your head back. You consider this for a moment, “I’m lying.” You whisper to him like a secret. You try to press your finger against your lips and miss, almost poking your eye out.

“You’re drunk.” He confirms, and you recognize this as the way back to the dorm. “We’re gonna get you back and in bed.”

You groaned much too loud, “I don’t _want_ to go.” You push Cecil’s arms off your shoulders and firmly place down your feet, or at least you try, but the attempt only leaves you stumbling onto a nearby bench. It was damp, from the rain they had earlier, and you enjoy the cold on your warm, reddened skin.

Cecil sighed, annoyed and frustrated. “You’re coming with me. Now. Let’s go.” He pulls on your arm, a bit rougher this time.

“I don’t _want_ to go with you.” You yell, the alcohol increasing the volume of his voice. “ _Let me go.”_

Cecil goes to pull on you again before, suddenly, he’s more than a few feet away, his ass firmly introduced to the wet grass.

“Nico!” You exclaim, happy to see the other boy. You almost try to stand, but you wait for the floor to settle itself down.

“You’re gonna get away from him.” Nico growls through clenched teeth, positioning himself between you and Cecil. If you were sober, you would remark upon how much different Nico looks. Maybe it’s how the night sky darkness shadows across his pale skin and how it darkens his feather soft hair, or maybe it’s how he’s dressed in thin sweatpants and a stained lacrosse tshirt, but it’s mostly the anger that radiates from his every pore, and how he seems on fire with his anger. You’ve only seen Nico with blushing cheeks, and laughing eyes, and you’ve seen how his hands will shake slightly when you return books, words of blushing red pressed in between the pages. Nico, now, is all the shadow and anger you’ve never seen.

And, honestly, it kind of turns you on.

You almost voice this thought, and thanks the _gods_ you actually didn’t, because Cecil interrupts the potential confession.

“What?” He exclaims, picking himself up quickly. Nico had pushed him pretty far actually, and Cecil strides over so he is closer to you. “He’s drunk!” He gestures to you and tries to reach for your arm.

Nico blocks him. “You’re right, he’s drunk. And that’s _exactly_ why you’re not going to _fucking_ touch him.” Nico steps in front of you and you admire how his thin shirt cuts over his shoulders.

“You have _really_ nice shoulders.” You announce, loudly and slightly slurred.

They both ignore you, except for how Nico makes a mental note to tuck that fact away.

“I’m his _roommate.”_ Cecil is more than annoyed now, and edging on pissed off. “I’m his _bestfriend_ and I’m taking him _home._ ”

“I don’t _want_ to go home.” You whine, “I want to keep partyingggg.” You hook onto the end of the word and drag it out with a smile and a little sway of your body that almost has you falling off the bench.

You attempt to stand and both Cecil and Nico turn to try and catch your stumbling figure. You lean closer to Nico and hang off him, you hands folding over his shoulder, brushing against his criminally soft hair, and the rest of you falls against him. He is slightly stiff, but holds you up with gentle hands. “Will _you_ take me to a party?” You bare chest presses against the soft cotton of his tshirt and you press your cheek against his so you can whisper into his ear. “Will you _take_ me, Nico?”

And _oh gods,_ if you don’t just _hate_ drunk you.

Nico chokes up, just slightly, and Cecil takes that moment to steal you away by hooking his fingers in the loops of your jeans and pulling.

You fall backwards onto him and groan, “I’m gonna be _sick.”_

 _“Great.”_ Cecil snaps at Nico, “If he throws up all over himself, _you’re_ stripping and washing him.”

Cecil picks you up bridal style and you take a moment to admire his bulging muscles. “You’re strongg.” You observe, slurring your ‘S’ slightly. You get comfortable in his arms and try not to heave all over his nice, bright purple shirt.

Nico grabs onto your elbow, “Hey.” He says to you quietly for only you to hear, despite Cecil being a few centimeters away. He ignored Cecil’s frustrated sigh, “Are you okay? Do you trust him?”

You grin, despite the churning mixing bowl in your stomach. “You helped me grocery shop. And you don't care when I’m awkward.” You giggle, delighted. “You likeeeeeeee me.” Your voice drags out.

“Yeah, I do.” He agreed, his voice quiet. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Cecil will take care of me, right?” You kick your legs, almost kneeing him in the chin.

“Lou’s busy, so murdering you would be much too time consuming.”

You laugh, and Nico watches you for a moment before deciding.

“I’ll walk with you.” He says, not really an offer. His voice had a hard pinch to it, and when he eyed Cecil it was still laced with suspicion. “Let’s go.”

Cecil doesn’t argue, probably just in a rush to keep you from throwing up everywhere, but he rolls his eyes dramatically. “It’s been a _pleasure_ to finally meet you.” His voice is dripping in sarcasm as he starts to walk. You frown, poking at his chest roughly.

“Don’t be mean.” You mutter, angry that Cecil was being mean to your little feather. You laugh, imagining Nico covered in millions of little black feathers.

Nico frowns, “Feathers?”

“He thinks your hair looks as soft as feathers.” Cecil informs him, grinning only a bit.

“Shhhhh.” You hush him, nearly smacking him in the face. “That’s a _secret.”_

Nico bites down a smile, “Does he now.”

Your eyes flutter shut, “I liked your note from Thursday.” And your voice is soft and dreamy, “It made me blushhhhhhh.”

Cecil snorted, and shifted you in his arms. “Was it at least PG-13, or a bit more saucy?”

“I talked about his eyes.” Nico told him, without a hint of embarrassment.

“Really? That's terrible.” Cecil shook his head like he was disappointed. “Why waste a good blush? Why not go on about how much you want his dick?”

Nico laughs at that, and even drunk you has to take a moment to soak that it.

“I suppose I’d like to do this differently…”  Nico takes a moment to search for the right word before he rolls his eyes. “As my friend Jason says, I’m ‘wooing’ him.”

It’s Cecil’s turn to laugh, and you don’t see what could be so funny as to cause you to bump against his chest from his rough laughter. You clench at his shirt and groan, and he quiets down.

“I guess that sounds about right.” Cecil comments, his voice lower now. “Wooing, huh?”

“As it would seem.” Nico answers.

“I’m cold.” You complain, the whiny part of your drunken experience now kicking in.

Cecil snapped his lips in annoyance, “Then you shouldn’t have lost your shirt in favor of all the glitter you’re covered in. Is the glitter keeping you warm?”

“ _No_.” You mutter, feeling a bit like a toddler.

“So next time, as there is bound to be a next time, _don’t_ strip. I thought that was a rule? If I can’t strip for the drunken sorority, then _you_ can’t cover yourself in glitter and make out with everyone.”

“Too much talking.” You tell him and you not so discreetly wipe your hands on him, hoping to get some of the glitter all over his shirt.

“We’re almost there.” Nico cuts in to tell you, looking almost sympathetic, but absolutely not regretful, at the sight of your bare chest.

Nico’s right – the walk only takes a few more minutes of quiet back and forth bickering from the other two boys before you’re being squeezed through doorways and up stairs. Argus – the security guard on your floor – gives you all a strange look when Cecil almost hits your head on the wall but doesn’t say anything as they attempt you into your dorm.

“Which bed is his?” Nico sets the keys Cecil had handed off to him moments before on the desk and tries to help Cecil by taking some of your weight.

“Bottom bunk.” Cecil answers, directing Nico towards the bunk bed set. They set you down carefully, their chests heaving slightly, and Cecil is suddenly thankful for Nico’s help. This wasn’t the first time he’d dragged your drunken ass home, but it was one of the easiest, despite him being thrown on the ground and almost puked on.

“If you throw up in my bed I will personally murder you, Solace.” Cecil mutters to you as he tucks the blanket around you. Nico is looking around the room with open interest, and he leans in to peer at a blurry photo Lou had printed up of when they went to see the new Jurassic Park movie over the summer.

Damn, do you love a good dinosaur.

You giggle loudly, pushing Cecil’s face away from yours. The sound breaks Nico out of his thoughts and he turns to give you a fond smile.

“He’s a pretty happy drunk.” Nico reaches up to grab a towel from your bunk – your actual top bunk – and he folds it in his hands a few times.

“Just wait, in a few minutes he’ll start naming the bones in the hand.”

You hold your hand in front of your face, your eyes wide. “There are _bones_ in me?”

“He’s….really drunk.” Cecil observes, as if this surprises him a bit.

“You couldn’t tell?” Nico raises his eyebrows, bending down so he could push you on your side and positioning the folded towel next to your face.

“He’s always pretty whiny and flirty; it can be hard to tell.” He joked, pulling some water bottles out of their shared mini fridge.

“Flirty? Really?” Nico casts a look over his shoulder to you. “I can’t even pass him a note without both of us melting into blushing puddles.”

“He was making out with some blond jock when I found him.” Cecil shakes his head, but watched Nico carefully.

Nico laughed, and Cecil shoots him a look, “You don’t care?” He asks, his words careful. Nico gives him a nonchalant shrug, his hands deep into his pockets.

“It was just kissing. And anyway, it’s not like we’re dating.” Nico grins, “Although, if he’s gonna insist on running around campus shirtless I guess I better hurry and fix that before anyone else can find him.”

That startles a laugh of out Cecil, “You’re special to him.” He tells him, as if he’s letting Nico in on something.

It’s Nico’s turn to blush, and he takes a moment to smooth the hair back from your face. You won’t remember this part, but you wish you did.

“I should go.” Nico tells both of you, but mostly Cecil. You miss the warmth from his hand already.

Cecil waves a loose hand towards you. “I’ll take care of him.” He stares at Nico for a moment, searching for his words. “Thanks for watching out for Will.” He finally decides on.

Nico smiles a bit, and it was a little sheepish. He shrugs, “Of course. I would have done it if it was anyone.”

“I know you would have. But you’re protective of Will.” Cecil adds on for him, “So...thank you.”

Nico doesn’t answer, instead turning to leave before pausing in the doorway. He turns slowly, sheepish. “Actually, do you have any paper?”

* * *

When you wake up, Cecil is pressing two pills and a bottle of water into your hands.

“Drink.” He instructs, “I’m going to class, I should be back in an hour. Don’t choke on your puke or anything, Nico would be devastated.”

You groan and pull the pillow over eyes, not really listening to anything he’s telling you. You hear the door click shut and you sigh, cursing the pounding headache forming at the base of your skull. You take a long drink of water with the pills, almost choking on it, before chucking the bottle across the room. You roll over, completely content to sleep your way through the worst of the hangover, but you hear a crumble. You peek an eye open.

A flash of bright pink interrupts the muted colors of Cecil’s comforter, and you paw at it for a few seconds before getting a reasonable hold on it.

Your eyes struggle to adjust to the color and the dark scrawl, the familiar handwriting only registering after you finish reading the words.

_You’re cute when you’re covered in glitter. Come by the library today?_

Another note, a bit longer, is clinging to the other.

_Billions of years from now,_

_When the grass has long grown dry,_

_And the sky holds no more color,_

_And when humans no longer touch the soil,_

_I can look at you and know,_

_That at least I had loved the sun._

You gape at the paper for a long minute before deciding some things are better freaked out about when you’re not hungover. You tuck the paper close to you, now painfully aware of the plastic freckles of color that are splashed across your bare skin.

Later that day, when your head is still aching but not nearly as bad, you’ll dunk into the library. Even after the long, steaming shower you’ll be blessed with, glitter will still clung to most of your skin and even more so in your hair. You’ll wipe a few pieces off your chin, missing, or maybe just ignoring, the pieces on your nose and forehead entirely. Nico will grin when he sees you, and the blonde girl behind the counter will give the smile, and then you, a double take before her phone is out and she is typing a mile a minute. Neither of you will notice this, and you will bend over the counter and lean in with a lazy smile.

“I need help finding a book. Think you’ll be able to assist me?” You’ll ask, tucking your sunglasses into your shirt pocket, and _boy_ will you be glad for the soft lighting of the building.

“I think so.” Nico will agree, hiding his own smile. You’ll both hide among the shelves for a bit, hushed laughter and whispered conversation not being the only things exchanged. You’ll share your first kiss this day, and it will be soft and seem impossible with how fast, yet how slow, you’ve come to love this boy. Nico will smile and touch his lips and the blonde girl behind the counter will totally pretend not to notice how long he’s been gone.  

That’ll happen later. Right now, you tuck the blanket – Cecil’s blanket – over your eyes and sleep.

* * *

“You never hang out with me anymore.” Lou declares as she burst through your door a few days later. You suspect she used her key – the one you still don’t know how she got a hold of – because you’re almost certain you locked it. It’s Wednesday so you expected her, but she usually comes much later.

“We hung out a few days ago.” You automatically defend yourself, pulling yourself up. You are – for once – in your top bunk and it only takes a moment for Lou to climb the ladder and curl up into your side.

“That was last Wednesday, and Wednesday’s don’t count.” She mutters into your side. She turns your laptop towards her and looks it over - probably just to be nosey.

“And why not?”  You demand, pulling your laptop back. You’re looking over the notes Frank sent you over before your exam tomorrow and, despite how _incredibly_ fascinating the anatomy of the nerve system is, you can’t seem to find your focus.

Lou huffs out a frustrated noise, “Wednesday’s are basically required at this point, and Cecil brought the Stoll Brothers last time so it’s not like we could have gotten into detail about our personal lives. And you and Cecil hang out every night; it’s not fair I only get to see you guys once a week.”

She plucks your glasses off your face and you groan – it seems like you’re done studying for now. You rub at your sore and greasy eyes, relishing the relief that comes with the action. She clicks your glasses together and puts them carefully to the side, and you follow suit your with closed laptop.

“We’re hanging out today.” She tells you as if it weren’t already obvious.

“Fine.” You relent, not much fight behind it. Despite her bossiness, and her stark lack of personal bounties, you’ve missed her too. You wrap an arm around her and pull her close, enjoying her warmth and the clean, slightly feminine scent of her soap. Her hair is slightly damp, so it must either be raining or she just got out of the shower. The lack of raindrops against your window answers that for you and you lay back into your mattress, taking her with you.

“I have to go to the library later.” You tell her, mentally double checking the day of the week. “I have to drop off a book.”

“It’s like it was just yesterday you were begging me to accompany you there.” Lou mused, “’ _Lou I_ can’t _go to the library! He will_ see _me!’”_ She mimicked in what you suppose was supposed to be your voice. She grins at you and messed with your hair, “Look at you, all grown up.”  

“Shut up.” You groan at her, “That was like, months ago.”

“Let’s take a nap.” Lou tells you more then suggesting.

“I _just_ woke up from a nap.” You groan, stretching your arms out and almost hitting Lou’s shoulder.

She frowns, “So?”

You sigh, “C’mon, it’s like four in the afternoon. Let’s hit the library before it closes and we’ll grab take out. I’ll text Cecil and let him know that it’s just us tonight, okay?”

She huffs, “ _Fine.”_ She relents, “But we’re getting pizza from that place I like. The one with the pineapple?”

“Pineapple on pizza is a sin.” You declare as you push the blankets - and Lou - away so you could climb down. You grab your glasses, shoving them on last minute, before pulling her along with you. “And Cecil and I had pizza last night.”

She sighs, “See!” She scowls, “I’ve been craving pizza all week! Why didn’t you text me?”

“You had class.” You reason with her, “And didn’t you have a date last night? How did that go?”

She blew air into her bangs, “Horribly.”

You give her a sympathetic look, “That sucks.”

“I mean, I still got laid.” She corrects herself, and you laugh. “It’s just, he was _so_ boring. It was like going on a date with a geometry textbook. He _literally_ talked about a math theorem for twenty minutes.”

You wince at her misfortune before handing over one of your hoodies. She accepts it happily, pulling it over her flannel and waiting for you to finish getting ready.

“Was he at least a good lay?” You question, patting your pockets for your wallet and keys. Lou hands them over from gods-know-where with a sly grin and you roll your eyes before taking them.

“Eh.” She shrugs in answer, “I wanted to give him some pointers but he seemed like the sensitive type, and I was _not_ dealing with a crying boy in my bed.”

“Especially because of last time.” You tease, dodging her playful punch. She shoves you, pulling on your arm before you have the chance to put your contacts in. You shake your head, locking the door behind you, and follow her down the hall.

You have to hustle to keep up with her - you’re often reminded in the most inconvenient times that Lou used to run cross-country - and it takes you both half the time it usually takes for you, on your own, to get to the library.

Lou swings your held hands between you both and grins up at you, “Do you need me to accompany you?” She teases, leaning in.

You roll your eyes and take your hand back, “I think I’ll manage.”

“Hmm.” She hums, pressing her thumb to her chin and studying you, “I think I’ll have to come in anyways, after all, you _do_ have a tendency to get lost.”

“I do _not_.” You scoff, climbing the steps into the library. She follows you, probably just because she didn’t want to wait in the cold rather than any other excuse. You pass a few other students working at the front desk and instead bee-line towards Nico, who’s scanning books. Lou trails off, getting distracted with the brightly colored bulletin board and going over to study it.

He looks up as you approach, and he sneaks you a small smile that has your heart pounding. Despite their...date? Was it a date? Over the weekend, it seems you’re both as nonverbal as ever.

“Nice glasses.” He mutters as he finishes up with his current stack of books. “I...didn’t know you wore them.”

“I usually wear contacts.” You state obviously, cursing yourself a bit.

“They look good.” He tells you, a blush in his voice as he averts his eyes, “You...look good with them. Not that you don’t always look good, but.” Nico cuts himself off and finally snaps his gaze up, “I...don’t know what I’m saying.”

You grin, and your face hurts from the force of it. “I think you were telling me I looked good.”

Nico sighs, embarrassed. “Do you - do you have any books to return, sir?”

You raise your eyebrows, teasing at his words. Your cheeky mood doesn’t last long when you remember what you’re here to do - what the letter you’re here to give says.

Your cheeks and neck burn bright, hot reds as you slide the paperback, _It’s Kind of a Funny Story,_ across the counter. Nico gives you a fixed look for only a moment before his eyes are flickering away. He takes the book and hides it under the counter, only sparing a quick look over his shoulder. He bites his lips and gives you a smile before he takes the stacks of books. “Thank you for visiting today.” He tells you, taking his time to pronounce all his syllables. Your throat dries up when he gives you one last heated look, peeking through his eyelashes, before heading towards the back.  

You take a step back, watching his retreating figure, and aren’t pulled back to reality until Lou’s nails are digging into your elbow.

“Oh my _god.”_ Lou grabs onto your arm, and drags you away. She is like a hurricane in that moment, anger in her eyes and wind in her voice, as she pulls you into the nearest bathroom. “Did you guys _screw?”_ her voice was less of a whispered hiss and more of a prolonged shriek, and it bounces off the walls unpleasantly.

Your face burns an unattractive red, blotches popping up on your neck and shoulders. “What? No!” Your voice is high with surprise, “Why do you and Cecil always assume sex?”

“ _Cecil knows you've had sex?”_ This time her voice can be counted as a real, harpy shriek. You back away from the anger in her voice, turning and knocking into the door.

You stumble out of the bathroom, detangling from Lou in the process and almost ending up face first on the carpet. You catch yourself, half kneeling and half fallen on the ground.

You look up, attempting to pull yourself together, and you freeze. Nico stands a few feet away, his hands clenching at the familiar notebook paper, and his eyes were wide and more startled then you have ever seen them.  

“I…” You trail off, speechless and embarrassed and _so_ pissed at Lou Ellen. You hurriedly fix your crooked glasses before giving the other boy a wide-eyed look.

He stares at you, and his eyes flicker away and fill with slight amusement. “Uh….the women’s bathroom?”

You choke on your spit, _“What?”_

Lou comes crashing out of the bathroom she’d dragged him into moments before. The one, you’re just now noticing, is covered in a soft, pale pink.

Lou stops herself, “Am I - am I interrupting something?”

With a soft crumble Nico shoves the note in his pocket, “No. Uh…” he hesitates for a moment before jabbing out an unsteady hand towards you. “Need a hand?”

You stare at his hand for a moment - and the doctor in you notices the rough calluses and the scars that cut into his palm. You take it gently, skin sliding on skin, and he presses down on your hand before pulling you up. His hand is warm and rough and masculine. He squeezes down on your knuckles and all you can think of how holding his hand feels like sharing a secret, and how the look in his eyes make you feel like every good feeling you’ve ever had. It’s one of the most intimate things you’ve ever felt, and you both share a long numbing, intensifying gaze.

Until Lou speaks up.

“Soooo.” She drags out, drawing the attention towards her and she jabs her thumb over her shoulder, “I’m just gonna go.”

Both of you pull your hands away, matching reds brushing your cheeks. Nico takes a step back and ducks his head and you rub at your neck with your palm.

“N-No.” You stutter, still trying to shake the feeling of Nico’s skin on yours, and how heavy his stare was. “I’ll - Let’s go.”

Lou leads the way, awkwardly edging around Nico before taking off. You follow her, stopping beside Nico to grab at his hand.

“I’ll write you later.” You mutter to him, staring straight ahead at Lou’s retreating figure. “Alright?”

You think you see Nico risking a smile but you don’t want to ruin it. He squeezes your hand tightly before letting go.

“Right back at cha.” He tells you, and there is a smile in his voice, “See you around, Will.”

And if that doesn’t just _kill_ you, how he says your name. How he drags the end of it out, like it’s a flavor he’s not done with tasting just yet. You duck your head to hide your blushing – well, _everything_ – and you follow Lou.

It’s Wednesday, so at least you have Thai takeout when Lou scolds you out.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you've had a secret admirer, and that secret admirer happens to be Nico di _fucking_ Angelo.” She stabs a chopstick in your direction, the wooden sticks looking lethal in her hands, “I tell you guys _everything._ Remember the incident with Adam Palmer and the kool-aid?”

Cecil shutters, “You did tell us _everything._ ”

“I still can’t look at fishsticks the same.” You muse, mostly just as a  attempt to make her laugh. She doesn’t budge from her frown, instead only refocusing her attention back on you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, her voice softer and slightly laced with hurt.

You sigh, setting down the container. Cecil takes that as a signal for permission to poke his fingers through your noodles and you swat them away. Stupid friends and their stupid lack of personal boundaries.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone.” You confess, “Cecil found out by accident, but I didn’t want to tell anyone. It just…it feels like a secret, like it’s special and just between us.”

Lou sighed, “I wish you would have told me.” She averts her eyes and pretends to watch whatever show is playing on the laptop.

“I know.” You feel guilty, and you bow your head, “I’m sorry.”

Lou smiles at that, “I know.” She echoes you, “And you’re totally doing this out of order. You’re suppose to date _first_.”

You bite your lip, a smile threatening to overtake your face. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s sickeningly romantic.” Cecil adds, probably just wanting to contribute to the conversation. He waves his fork around, too impatient to learn chopsticks, and ends up getting sauce on your arm.

Lou nods in agreement, “It’s like you two are in third grade passing notes that say, ‘do you like me?’” She smiles at Cecil’s laugh, “Seriously Will, just check yes.”

You sigh, wiping at the sauce spot before redirecting your attention to whatever case Olivia Benson has been tasked with solving today.

“It’s just – everything is perfect right now.” You finally answer when Benson and Elliot are chasing the prime suspect down. Cecil is watching eagerly, his eyes not leaving the screen, even though you know he’s seen this episode before. Lou tears her eyes away when they handcuff the guy and looks back at you.

“Yeah,” She grins, but there is only softness in it this time. “Actually dating him...the _definition_ of imperfect.” Her sarcastic voice has you smiling, and you’re nervous but you don’t know why. You _know_ Nico likes you, and you like him, so why is your heart trying to jump out of your chest?

You swallow, fumble with the notebook beside you, and you actually consider listen to Lou for once in your life.

* * *

“And I expect a full outline on what we learned about Piaget’s stages of cognitive development due at the end of class.” Mr. D scowled, already turning back to flip through his magazine.

You snap to attention, your alarm only growing at the sight of your mostly blank notebook page.

“Daydreaming?” Frank questioned with a smile, already handing over his worn, but neat, notebook.

“You have no idea.” You groan, “I have no idea how you manage to focus.”

Frank shrugged, “I went to the library and took some notes last night, I couldn't take it anymore.”

You laugh knowingly, “Was your girlfriend's brother back?”

He sighed softly, “He just keeps going on about this guy he’s _totally_ in love with.” Frank rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Like, if I hear another one of his waxing poetry rants about this guy’s eyes _\- ocean blue,_ in case you were wondering _-_ I swear to the gods I will _choke_ him.”

“Your girlfriend probably wouldn't like that.” You remark, scrawling down his notes.

Frank heaved a sigh. “She’s just _so_ happy on how he’s _sharing his emotions_ and _getting back out there.”_

You laugh, shaking your head. “They must be _quite_ a couple.”

“That's the thing!” Frank threw his hands up and honestly, this was the  closest to losing his temper as you'd ever seen. “They're not even dating! Both of them are in such total love with each other _and they don't even know!”_

You finally look up from your work with a wide grin. “So he's just head over heels for just some regular Joe?”

Frank leaned back in his chair. “Pretty much. He met the guy last year and he's been totally lost since.”

You hum under your breath, “Seems like one of them should get a move on.”

He huffs out an agreement but remain silent, instead choosing to focus on copying the assignment from the book. You finish the notes, grateful you don't have to worry about them anymore, and slide Frank's notebook back over to him.

You catch sight of the brightly colored yellow and black scarf pooling next to Frank’s jacket and you smile. “Nice scarf. Hufflepuff, huh?”

Frank laughed, “My girlfriend made it for me.” He smiles, a little lovesick. “She’s getting so good at knitting! She’s so talented.”

“She made this?” You run the soft yarn between the two of your fingers, the pattern seeming familiar.

“Yeah, she’s made like forty of them so far.” Frank runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh, “Her brother has had like, fifteen of them forced upon him.”

A detail pops into your head, fingerless gloves and dark colored yarn weaved together, and the familiar pattern comes to your mind..

“Nico?” You mutter, your eyebrows coming together.

Frank gave you a questioning look, “di Angelo? You know Nico?”

You take a slow breath, “ _Holy Shit.”_ You grab onto Frank’s shoulder, and tried not to be too embarrassed at how much you had to reach up to do so. “ _Nico’s_ your girlfriend’s brother?”

Frank gives you a look and tries to lean away from your intense stare. “Uh, yeah, you know him?”

“I'm the guy.” You mutter to yourself, everything you and Frank had said to each other coming back to you at once.

“Wait.” You realize, your hand flying up to your mouth. “Nico _loves_ me? Like _love love?”_

Frank held up his hands, “Will, I don’t know what you’re saying at all. Are you feeling alright?”

You stand, your outline is only half done but hell, Mr. D doesn’t even glance at these anyways and apparently you have much more _important_ things to face.

You wave off Frank's questions, feeling slightly bad, but you exit the classroom and head back to the dorm quickly.

You finally get back to your room, feeling a bit numb but mostly just...excited. Adrenaline.

Cecil and Lou, already curled in bed around an open laptop, took one look at him and held up the blanket, moving over so there was room for him to crawl in.

Lou wraps her arms around you as soon as you're comfortable, and you know that it's Cecil’s cold feet pressing into your side when you finally stop fidgeting.

“Tell us.” Lou’s voice is a command, but soft.

“I...I have to talk to Nico.” You tell them, not really registering that you're speaking outloud.

“Wait...you do?” Cecil stared at him, his eyes wide and surprise. “About the...thing?”

“I need to talk to Nico.” You decide more firmly. “I'm going to go first thing in the morning.”

“You _are?”_ Lou’s voice is even more incredulous. You look over to her and she seems to already be bored, despite her voice, as she’s already tapping at her phone.  

“Yeah.” You breathe out, your voice a sigh. “I am. It's time now, I think.”

* * *

The walk to the  library, so familiar at this point, seems to drag on forever. You walk the same path as you do every time, the same bench you read _Perks_ , by the house you got drunk at thinking of him, the spot where he handed off your first note, all the spots that will never be the same to you.

The library doesn’t seem so intimidating anymore. Now, the air is slightly stuffy, but not so unpleasantly so. The morning light shines in your eyes from an open window, but you don’t shield yourself from it. The carpet you walk on is worn spectacularly, and the colors blend together so much it’s hard to identify any sort of pattern, but it’s clean and well taken care of.

The person in front of you leaves, and now it’s your turn at the front of the line, and you meet Nico’s eyes without any (visible) hesitation. Nico perks up at the sight of you, but still looks a little confused. “I didn’t see you had any books...” He says to you in greeting, already turning so he could go check in the back.

“I didn’t -” You cut yourself off, and smile again, trying to calm yourself , and Nico turns back to you, looking even more confused. You clench at the loose leaf piece of paper for one more second before you hold it out.

Nico’s cheeks color, and the brush of red across his pale cheeks is like the first streaks of sunlight through the night sky. He takes it with slow hands, his eyes flickering up to try and read the emotion in yours.

_Do you like me?_

The note read in your neatest handwriting,

_Check yes ___ or definitely ____

Nico breaks out in a smile, a full, rare smile, and if you weren't already completely gone for the boy that smile would have sealed the deal. He takes a moment, a short moment but a moment nonetheless, to just stare at the paper, a wide smile on his lips. He fishes a pen - a purple fountain pen, and you’re not sure why you notice this - and takes his sweet ol’ time to draw the most elaborate checkmark you’ve ever seen.

“Definitely?” You smile, “Good choice. I would have said the same.”

Nico hands the paper back, letting your fingers brush together. “As much as I absolutely love passing notes like third graders...Do you want to go get coffee later? Maybe when my shift’s done?”

“Um, hi, yeah, I mean _I_ can totally just cover the rest of your shift.” Nico jumps at the surprise voice, and wow, um, you’re both surprised to see the small gathering of people, mostly girls - but hey, is that Frank? _Cecil?_ \- behind the counter. Jason pops up, waving at both of the them from behind the counter.

“Piper? I mean -” Nico cuts himself off, “You got off like an hour ago, it’s fine you can go home -”

“Seriously, Nico.” The girl - Piper - glared at him. “Go. Now. Eat a muffin in my namesake. Fall in love. Get married and name your first kid after me. Go.”

Nico, still looking surprised, just gave her a wide-eyed look before nodding. “I mean, sure, I guess?” He turned back to you, looking a bit excited. “Are you free right now?”

You smile, “Always, for you.” You choose to ignore the high pitched squeal from the occupied corner.

“Smooth, Solace.” Nico teased, but looked pleased. “Let me go sign out.”

You smile, still holding your note. Cecil, from his corner, waves at you and gives you a thumbs up. From somewhere, who knows, Lou pokes her head around a short curly haired girl clinging to Frank.

Nico comes back out, sporting the familiar black jacket and crappy scarf, and smiles at you.

“Ready?” You ask, holding your hand out, and you ignore the cheers from behind the desk.

Nico takes your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. “Of course. I've been ready for weeks, Solace.”

You dunk your head at that, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Nico knocks their hips together, mostly as an excuse to get closer to the other boy. “It's okay. Next time, just be a little quicker, okay?” He laughed, “Deal?”

You smile, so incredibly in awe of the other boy. “Deal.” You agree, holding the door open for Nico. “Coffee?”

“Coffee.” He agrees, dunking out the doorway.

You watch him for a single moment, not long enough for anyone to really notice, and you follow him.

* * *

Years later, when both of the boys have long since moved out of their dorms, and moved off campus completely, they will share a tiny matchbox of an apartment. Nico will always throw his clothes everywhere, and Will leaves thick medical texts in the oddest places. Date night is every Thursday, and Sunday is family dinner with their friends.

Sometimes, Nico will look over at Will, studying whatever graduate students study, and his breath will catch in his throat at the beauty of a boy in front of him. Will, chewing the ends of his pens to plastic, or Will running a hand through his hair in frustration.

And he’ll write about him.

And sometimes, Will will look over at Nico, usually reading, occasionally writing, and he’ll smile softly and do the same thing.

These notes to each other are at least more direct. But always hidden, tucked in the pages of a book, folded in the others favorite coffee mug, taped on the steering wheel of the others car.

They keep writing to each other, they always will.

And on the wall, in a thick black frame, is a small scrap of paper where the only color is from a purple fountain pen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I so much enjoyed this, and I've been working in it forever omg. Please review if you enjoyed! - Rosy  
> P.s. I am not a poet. I am no where near a poet. Please do not mistake my fumbling attempts at poetry to be anything near the real thing. Thanks! Find me on tumblr at rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> Shows/Books mentioned.  
> Star Wars films  
> Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephan Chobeky.  
> Scandal  
> Grey’s Anatomy  
> Legally Blonde  
> It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini  
> SVU: Special Victims Unit


End file.
